


"I just really miss talking to you."

by arthurmorgan-s-heart (Silverblind)



Series: Prompt Fills [9]
Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Female Reader, light spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 17:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverblind/pseuds/arthurmorgan-s-heart
Summary: Fill from "Drabble List #2" (105 prompts), #69: "I just really miss talking to you."Arthur tries to win you back one last time.





	"I just really miss talking to you."

**Author's Note:**

> From my tumblr blof arthurmorgan-s-heart

_June 22nd, 1899 **  
**_

_Saint Denis, Lemoyne_

_Dear Y/N,_

_Not gonna tell you how many times I started this letter over. Just hope you won’t throw it away soon as you see it’s from me._

_I know you said you didn’t want nothing to do with me no more, but I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I didn’t try to change your mind one last time._

_I’m getting out. We’re all getting out. All of us. All we need is one more score and we’re out of here. Dutch says Australia, or Tahiti. We shall see. But the important part is that it’s a new start - we ain’t gonna be outlaws there. We’d be ranchers, or farmers, anything we want. We could be together. We could be a family. All three of us._

_That score, we found it. Soon as we have it, we’re gone. And I would love nothing more than for you to come with us. With me._

_I understand why you left. I do. And there’s nothing in the world I want more than to be better, to mend things between us. This is our chance - if you’ll allow me to try._

_I miss you. Both of you. I miss being with you, talking to you, just seeing you. Everything about you. About what we had. There’s nothing I ain’t willing to do if it means we can all be together again._

_I’ll accept your decision, whatever it may be, but please think about it, at least._

_I love you. Both of you. Always have. Always will._

_Yours,_

_Arthur_

_P.S.: Send your answer to Tacitus Kilgore. It’ll find its way to me._

“Who’s it from, Mama?”

You blink the tears from your eyes as you look up from the letter, smiling at your son - only eight years old, and he already looks so much like his father. God, how you had loved that man - and loved him still, if you’re honest with yourself. But as much as you want to believe that he’s right, that all this will truly be over soon, it’s not a risk you can allow yourself to take anymore. You’d made your choice years ago, and he’d made his.

“No one important, darling,” you say as you stand from your seat and throw the letter in the hearth. You watch as the flames devour the paper in seconds, edges curling and blackening before crumbling away, taking with it words that you had longed to hear, but had come too late. “No one at all.”


End file.
